


Dissociation

by barelyhuman



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 21:36:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8594662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barelyhuman/pseuds/barelyhuman
Summary: At times, Hana remembers that piloting the MEKA isnt the same as piloting her character on StarCraft. Its times like these that she wishes not to remember.





	

Hana Song wakes, and the harsh glow of synthetic yellowed light fills her vision. _Hm_ , she muses. She probably forgot to turn it off last night. Unsurprising. She hadn't planned on sleeping in the first place anyway.

Working with the Korean army had given her scarce personal time, and she had spent the majority of the previous night, her first free time in a while, training on STARCRAFT. She didn't want her reflexes to slacken after all, the annual STARCRAFT tournament was coming.

Hana rolls over, bringing an arm up in a feeble attempt to shield her eyes from the ceiling light. No such luck. Aside from the light, there is a sour, acrid taste in her mouth, probably from all the junk food she had eaten during her gaming session. Hana wrinkles her nose at the memory. Her manager absolutely cannot know about the packet of Doritos she had practically inhaled the night before. A star like her needed to be watching her weight constantly, had to look healthy and slim for her fans always. All the pop stars held fast to that image, and now she has to also. Her sleep addled brain can't even recall the last time she even tasted Doritos' salty tang. She was pretty sure yesterday was an exception, a treat or a consolation for something, but she cant remember what.

Her disgust at the taste of her own saliva leads to a sudden bout of restlessness, and she determines that any more amount of sleep is impossible for her now. Propping herself up with an arm, Hana slowly staggers into an upright slouch from her position on the floor, wedged between the bed and her gaming system. She realised she hadn't even turned the TV off, STARCRAFT's interface still blinking on the flat screen. The screen stood out painfully glaring with its bright jaunty looking interface, admist the bare, spartan dormitory room Hana hadent the time to spruce up. Shuffling into a full stand, Hana rubs her cheek and switches the screen off. Somehow, just looking at the interface made her feel... uncomfortable. Queasy almost. Hana wonders why.

Her fried brain provides no answers and she decides to leave it at that, instead ambling to the bathroom in her allocated army dorm room to freshen up. It can't have possibly been close to morning reporting time yet, she woke before the alarm after all. Her foot kicks her blue headphones as they lay, discarded on the ground. They skid across the white paneled fake wood flooring, coming to rest awhile away with a clatter. Hana eyes them blearily. She would need them later. She would pick them up later.

Her thin fingers grasp the cold metal of the handle of the bathroom door, shoving it open with more force than necessary. As the flimsy plastic door banged against the wall, Hana walked in, facing the sink just across the doorway. She washes her hands and rinses her mouth, rubbing her face with the heels of her palms. Finally, Finally, she allows herself to look in the mirror over the sink. She stands there for a moment, scrutinising her small, pale oval face, framed by a halo of messy dark hair. No makeup, no telltale pink streaks marking her cheeks. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, as if she had been crying. That, coupled with the dark purple eyebags and her patchy skin, Hana deems it a pitiful, disgusting sight. Her face is never moisturised enough in the morning, she would have to put on a face mask later. Good thing she brought quite a few packs from home. Some of those jeju volcanic face masks that were all the rage back home.

Back when she had first won the championship title of the first rank STARCRAFT player, she had looked considerably uglier. At that time, she didn't really have much in her to care. She hardly cared about anything than her gaming time, her scores, her rankings. She didn't bother much with makeup or face products. Hell, she never even had many friends who cared about them either, if she had any friends at all. She spent most of her time at LAN cafes when she skipped school to practice her game, or straight after school, when she was simply avoiding her chastising parents. It wasn't after her win that the sponsors started rolling in, and with them, a need for a new image. A new start.

She moves her head, critically examining the way her fringe falls into her eyes. Reaching up, she thumbs her bangs thoughtfully. _I'm in need of a trim_ , she muses pinching a lock of hair and rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. _Theres no one here to help me trim it here._

Her publicists had mentioned before, that she was a pretty average looking girl. Not ugly, not overwhelmingly pretty, they needed to do something to spruce up her image. Her hair was dyed brown, cut and styled to perfection. She was taught face care routines and makeup techniques. They even thought up a new, original 'look' for her, the pink whisker like streaks onher cheeks and her cute bunny headphones and style helped her to stand out. Or at least, thats what they kept insisting.

Letting her hair fall back against her forehead, Hana moves to rummage nosily through her tiny bathroom cabinet beneath the sink. Crouched there, her body blocks the harsh synthetic light, keeping the cabinet dark, and leaving her to grasp blindly until her fingers close around the cold metal of the scissors and plastic comb. Satisfied with her find, Hana faces the mirror once more and carefully combs out her fringe. The rest of her hair can be combed later, after her bath.

After her debut, she began to believe her publicists. Everything went up after her makeover, new sponsors, new fans, newfound fame. Hana loved every minute of it. She remembered how her parents had changed from constantly chastising her to actually appreciating her. The first time she saw a wisp of pride for her in their eyes, she thought she might break down crying.

She holds her fringe out to eye level, carefully aligning her scissors before taking her first snip. She notes how greasy her hair felt. She hopes it wont ruin the cutting proccess somehow. Hana makes her first snip small, trying to use it to judge the appropriate length it should be. Too short? No, still too long. Hana positions her scissors again.

Distantly she wonders if she's taking too long. She wants to be done and freshen up soon so she can meet the others. She wants to tell Ah Yoon about her new highscore. _SNIP!_ Hana blinks and squints, perhaps she had cut a bit more then she intended. Hana leans in closer to the mirror, trying to judge the length of her snipped portion. He mind feels addled somehow, thinking too much about her fringe gives her a headache. _Oh_ , her tired mind recalls, _Ah Yoon wont be at breakfast this morning_.

Yesterday afternoon during the battle, during mission Deta, she had _**permanently logged out**_. Hana snipped another lock of her fringe.

Ah Yoon had always been the best flanker in STARCRAFT, an inseparable addition to her team. "Agent T.RA's MEKA was hit full force from the omnic's plasma blaster. She never emerged from the wreckage."

She wasn't online all night yesterday. What her commander said must be true. _Its too bad_ , Hana thinks, pulling up her last lock of hair to snip, _the championships are coming soon too. We would never find a replacement as good as her in time_. Hana wonders why she felt so heavy, so tired suddenly. Her scores at the MEKA simulator whirl around her mind. Ah Yoon's scores and hers had been neck to neck. Hana was not leagues better than her, as she had used to jokingly brag to her about.

**Permanently logged out**. Hana wonders for a moment, if the omnic crisis could be more than a judge of skill in battle. In the mirror, her frame is shaking, but her brain cannot feel the tremors. Instead, she brings up her hand, shaking madly like a flag in high wind, and clamped it against her forehead, smoothing her fringe down.

_Its impossible_ , she thinks, _games like these are always created with a fair chance of victory._ Skill is everything. Hana sweeps her fringe to the left in her signature style, and notes with disdain, that she had cut it too short. She might have to wear her bangs straight now, like the popular style with Korean pop stars these days. Hana sighs suddenly, the scissors falling out of her limp fingers, clattering on their way down into the sink. Its already happened after all, all she can do now is to make do.

**Author's Note:**

> Always thought that line in D.Va's bio where it says that she sees the entire omnic war as another video game, is kinda fucked up.


End file.
